


Kings of the Wild Frontier - Part Four

by wordbyrdaber



Series: Kings of the Wild Frontier [3]
Category: Django Unchained (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 11:56:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordbyrdaber/pseuds/wordbyrdaber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I would hate for you to ever test that theory, Fräulein. You’re a good shot, but out of practice…and a little slower than I am.”<br/>A shiver made its way through Paula’s core. She could not tell if it was the fact that she was sopping wet, or the doctor’s words.  Annoyed, the woman shook her head.<br/>“Don’t worry, Doctor. I won’t run away. You’ll get your money – and you won’t lose your…cargo, or whatever you consider me to be.”</p>
<p>The days wear on as Dr. King Schultz and his 'wife' travel towards Cincinnati.<br/>But the universe moves forward, and a yet unknown presence spurs life-harrowing events into motion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kings of the Wild Frontier - Part Four

**Author's Note:**

> Again, Quentin Tarantino's world and King is his. Other unknown players are mine. 
> 
> Apologies that it's been so long since the last update, but I will finish this soon. The story is already outlined - it just needs to be written. Thank you for your continued support...that is, if I have any of you left. ;-)
> 
> Critiques, comments, and suggestions are always appreciated - many thanks, humans!

Kings of the Wild Frontier – Part 4

 

“You arrive along with the sun.  
Where have you been darling? What have you done?  
You were out finding trouble again-  
There’s a fire in your eyes and there’s blood on your hands.”  
\--Lord Huron, ‘Lullaby’ 

 

Maps are funny things – they are both informative and woefully inaccurate all at the same time. You can see the invisible lines that mark boundaries and view the border of states and territories from the vantage point of an omnipresent eagle. You can trace long, raging rivers with the tip of your index finger. You can learn the names of places you had never thought of, nor ever expected to go. In the evenings, weather they were bedding down for the night in a boarding house, or taking their chances out in the open, Paula-Elizabeth-whoever-she-was would pour over Doctor Schultz’s maps. They were both fact and possibility to her. She now knew, thanks to the doctor’s gradual leaking of information, that their final destination was Cincinnati – Nattie’s family lived in a section of the city that was close to the factory where her brother and cousins worked. That was where she and Sarah would be waiting for their friend. Tracing the path that they’d taken so far, and keeping track of the miles that were still to be traveled gave Paula a sense of calm. The closest thing she’d had to a family in a long time was waiting over the Ohio state line just for her.  
She had been able to read maps for as long as she could remember – perhaps even before she’d been reading books. Of course, she hadn’t known the names of specific places on the scrolls and sheets of good thick parchment paper Papa had shown her while they’d been on the trading ship. But she’d been able to identify places by shape and color.  
The woman that had once been fondly called ‘Izzy Beth’ still remembered being shown a big violet line on a maps that symbolized a trade route. She’d jumped up and down with joy and excitement, and then was sorely disappointed when the path their ship traveled was not completely purple. 

“So, we’ve been traveling for…sixteen…seventeen days?” Paula questioned Schultz . It was muggy, overcast afternoon. She rode beside the graying doctor on the cushioned wagon seat as he drove along, speaking to Fritz every now and then absentmindedly. There was water hanging in the sky that hadn’t come down yet. It was simply sitting on the horizon, watching and waiting.  
“Sixteen days – we’re making excellent time! Though we have been fortunate that there have been no other moments like the one that marked the beginning of our auspicious journey…”  
Schultz let the last bit trail off into a biting sarcastic drawl, and rubbed the back of his hand between his eyes as if trying to blot something out.  
“Well, you’re still alive. Your cargo is still intact. I’d say it’s been ‘auspicious,’ Doctor.”  
They fell into silence – and while most of the quiet moments between the two had become comfortable, this one seemed full. Something in the air changed - had been changing. Schultz had developed a habit of shooting long sideways glances at the woman. He got away with it – more often than not – because her little red head was always lost somewhere in the clouds, and her brain seemed caught up between the real world and whatever was going on in her mind. It was amusing every now and then to bring her out of her wistful musings by striking up a conversation. For the first few seconds, she’d always have the look of someone who’d been rudely awakened. It was also useful to catch her in these moments unawares – just to check how she was feeling. He cast his eyes diagonally at Paula, just to see what the expression on her face was like.  
To his surprise, she was giving him a wry smile. Schultz quickly snapped his head back towards Fritz and the reigns, and cleared his throat in a resolute way. Taking a moment to recover, he tugged at his beard, then smoothed down the sides by stretching out his hand as if he were lost in a deep thought.  
“It will rain tonight – it might be good to stop soon. I don’t fancy dragging our beasts through a storm. Best to find shelter.”  
They had entered the foothills of a familiar range Schultz had been in many times before. Following the landmarks of memory, he knew there were nooks, crannies, and caves that would provide adequate shelter for their small party. Long ago, this region had been covered in vast bodies of water that had eroded patches of earth and stone over eons. They would sleep in one of those forgotten folds tonight. If nothing else, Paula could stay in the wagon, and he would rest beneath with his sleeping roll. This had worked several times before, and provided an adequate amount of privacy for each of them.  
It was not only the constant need to keep themselves shielded from suspicious eyes, but the worry of offending the woman’s delicate sensibilities that had the doctor constantly worried. So far, they’d been able to navigate certain…difficulties with grace. Schultz liked to think of himself as a gentleman above all else.  
No…no, that wasn’t quite right. He was first and foremost a business man, and that’s what had led him to this particular situation. Still, he should’ve never called her ‘cargo.’ Unlike the corpses of criminals he exchanged for money, the woman was bright and alive. Wary, but becoming more sure in his company every day.  
Shaking himself mentally, he reminded himself that he could not - would not! - care about that. He would not care about her broken little smile, or the way she hummed to herself when she pinned up the ragged strands of her red hair in the morning. He didn’t care that she was the best conversational outlet he’d had in ages, and that watching her shoot that gun of hers was somehow fascinating.  
Schultz didn’t have to worry about the woman when she walked a little outside of their makeshift camps for various indelicate reasons. She always had the gun with her, and the doctor knew that she could use it. That, at least, was a relief. Her trigger-happy finger, however… He’d given her one of his rifles during an evening when they’d been camped out next to a lake. The day had been hot, and he’d fancied a swim and some time to himself. Paula had been all too happy to give him his space, and promised that she could handle the weapon. “Go on, I can watch the horses,” she encouraged, trying to cover her awkwardness with a funny little wave. She seemed all too happy to pretend that Schultz never had to dress or undress, and so she sent him out into the nebulous darkness assuming he was just…taking a stroll. The splashing sounds from the direction of the lake was the wind making waves on surface of the water, she’d probably asserted, completing the denial.  
He’d chuckled darkly to himself now and then about it while floating on his back under the moon. It had been a clear night, and the water had only been too cold for a moment. After he’d gotten used to the temperature, it had felt like heaven. So when he’d heard the rifle shot, he’d been momentarily aggravated about being unceremoniously booted out of his dream-like state. Then, breathless panic had overtaken him. Without a thought, he’d jumped out of the water and had grabbed his six shooter from the neat pile of clothes he’d made on the dark, sandy beach. He’d bounded – maybe flown – through the feet that separated him from the campsite, and walked into the circle surrounding their small fire ready for any attackers. 

Paula had been standing by the fire, rifle still clutched in her shaking hands. She had a look of extreme horror on her face.  
“What is it?” he’d growled.  
She’d gulped, and went completely pale – if that were possible, considering her already nearly translucent complexion.  
“A…it flew at me!”  
Schultz had surveyed the ground and realized two things; Paula had shot an extremely large bat. Also, he was still naked.  
With a loud streak of punctuated words – all German, all rather ungentlemanly – Schultz had vaulted back into the brush surrounding their small campsite. He did not come back until he was clothed and much calmer.  
They had not spoken of the incident when he’d returned.  
Also, there had been no eye-contact between them for two days.  
Schultz was able to locate a small cave with a decent amount of cover that he’d used during his previous travels. This part of the world was rife with landscape that criminals and lawmen alike could find uses for.  
“We’ve got a good vantage point here, and we’re well hidden. We won’t have to worry about anyone taking us by surprise,” he explained, as the wagon pulled to a stop and the noise from the tooth-and-spring stopped its familiar “boing-THWAP-boing.”  
She nodded, and peeled herself off of the seat, making a bee-line around the back of the cart for Jake who greeted her with loud snorts and a few sound hoof-stomps. It would be good to have some rain. The heat of the overcast day had played havoc with her, making Paula feel as if she were shut in a large gray box. By and by, the familiar prattling sound of rain surrounded the cave, and Paula suddenly had a wonderful idea.  
“Doctor, I must excuse myself for a moment – I’ll take my gun. I’ll be back.”  
“Fine, fine…” the older man was busy arranging things against one side of the cave’s wall, and checking over their supplies. She smiled at his nonchalance, and forced herself to slowly make her way out of the shallow cave’s gaping mouth. As soon as she was sure she was out of sight, Paula broke into a run.  
He didn’t start to feel bamboozled until after he’d realized the woman had been gone for the better part of an hour. Schultz had gone through all their goods, taking inventory of what they’d need to purchase when they got to the next town. He’d even had time to organize some of the handbills he’d been carrying since South Carolina. Eventually, he realized that Paula hadn’t come back yet. Though he was unsettled, he didn’t think she’d be stupid enough to take advantage of his good nature. Then again, something might have happened. They should’ve worked out a better system than the one they had – which was simply a reliance on the reactions that resulted from the sounds of gunfire…  
““Scheiße,” he declared in the general direction of Fritz and Jake, who could only regard him with large, shining eyes.  
Unhappily, Schultz stalked out of the cave, looking for what was left of Paula’s trail. The rain was not heavy or cold – still, he was getting wet and his hair was becoming a matted mess that stuck to the back of his neck like damp, slick fingers. He always made it a priority to look neat, well groomed – it was often something that set him apart from those he tracked, and it was simply part of his identity. The rain was destroying his efforts, and that annoyed him all the more.  
Schultz was half fear, half anger. It was necessary for him to keep taking deep calming breaths as he walked through the trees and underbrush, looking for signs of recent foot falls.  
It really would have been easier to shoot her. 

Moments later, after stumbling through more wet shrubbery and a few mud puddles forming at his feet, Schultz finally made out Paula’s shape from behind a clump of low-hanging branches. She’d not gone more than a quarter of a mile from the cave. The woman was standing in a clearing his wagon had probably made while bouncing towards its destination. The doctor slowly frowned, looking through the negative space between the smaller limbs. They cut the figure of the woman into a stained glass pattern of shapes. She could have been a saint in the window of a great cathedral – and, no, she was not running. She was not scheming or plotting. She was not even in trouble.  
She was dancing in the rain.  
The woman spun slowly in a circle, her arms extended above her head, fingers cutting into the sheets of water. She was looking upward into the sky with half-open eyes, and grinning. Her mouth occasionally gaped open to catch a few drops, and the simple calico traveling dress was starting to get soaked through. The hair she’d taken such care with that morning was haphazardly springing up like wild vines over bobby pins barely still doing their job. It was not until he shook himself mentally that Schultz realized his heart had jumped to the middle of his throat, where it beat like a hammering timpani.  
Embarrassed for interrupting, the doctor intentionally shuffled forward noisily.  
“Well, this is certainly one way to cool off,” he called, emphasizing the last two words, and raising his brows.  
No sooner had he spoken than Paula snapped into position, aiming directly at the doctor’s head. For a moment, both Schultz and Paula regarded each other. Finally, he placed his hands in front of himself, palms open and facing the startled woman. It was only after realizing who she was looking at that Paula felt inclined to lower her weapon.  
“You’ll catch your death,” he exclaimed.  
“I could say the same to you,” Paula returned. “You could have ended up like the bat.”  
Schultz shook his head darkly.  
“I would hate for you to ever test that theory, Fräulein. You’re a good shot, but out of practice…and a little slower than I am.”  
A shiver made its way through Paula’s core. She could not tell if it was the fact that she was sopping wet, or the doctor’s words. Annoyed, the woman exhaled sharply.  
“Don’t worry, Doctor. I won’t run away. You’ll get your money – and you won’t lose your…cargo, or whatever you consider me to be.”  
She placed her father’s gun back into the belt around her hips, and picked up her skirts, preparing to go back to camp. Her plan, hastily composed as it was, involved an indignant march past Schultz without another word. He didn’t have the right to threaten her, and how did he know she wasn’t just as fast as he was? Out of practice, fine – but slow?  
As she passed Schultz, his arm shot out from his side, and caught the crook of her elbow. She looked him square in the face, eyes wide and the corners of her mouth pressing down tightly.  
She realized his face had softened, even if he still had the look of a wet bedraggled cat about him.  
“Mein Schatz,” he blurted out suddenly. It was half correction, half apology. He hoped desperately that she knew what he’d just said – what it meant.  
“Sie sind ein Schatz für mich,” he finished, holding his breath for a beat while he watched her dripping face.  
For her part, Paula-Elizabeth-whoever-she-was wished that she were not so pale. There was no way to hide the blood rush to her cheeks.  
“Come back to camp, Schatz,” he suggested softly. “We’ll get a fire going, and I’ll tell you about this range – there’s a peak here called Grandfather Mountain.”  
He let go of her elbow, curving his arm into her side as an offering. The gesture was enough, and with her sad broken little smile, she took it.  
“A friend of yours?”  
“Ach!”  
The doctor reached up, and tugged gently at her still-blushing face with his other hand.  
“Don’t be cheeky.”  


The map Paula continued to trace could tell a person many things, like how many towns and state lines rested between the pair of them and Ohio. However, it was only symbolic – it showed only the surface of the miles she and Schultz traveled. It did not show how other lines had started to blur and shift – lines that weren’t meant to be mapped on any kind of scroll, but seemed imprinted on her heart, bones, and skin. These lines showed the woman how to come up for air after years of being buried in darkness. They became more clearly defined whenever the doctor held her hand to help her into the seat of the cart beside him, or whenever Paula and Schultz spoke about their lives, or books, or anything at all – the pauses in conversation happened less and less every day.  
“But why?” she asked, every now and again.  
“Why – what?”  
“Taking me to Ohio – getting me there safely. Even if you do benefit in the end, it seems to go against your…code.”  
“Would you rather I tie you to Jake and take you to the nearest sheriff?”  
“No – I just – I’ve seen you take men down. They may have had reasons for what they did, too.”  
He’d laughed at that.  
“Everyone has motivation for committing criminal acts at the time a person decides to commit them,” Schultz said. “The men who killed my brother, for instance – they wanted to rob him. But what you did,” he paused for a moment, letting all levity fall away.  
“You wanted nothing but to live in peace. I believe that if you could have made it out of that house without hurting anyone, you would have.”  
It had been months since broken glass, and rough hands yanking on her long red hair – bashing her head into the railing of the staircase again and again, the voice of her dead husband overhead promising certain death, her Papa’s gun just in the other room – as present as a promise, and the only way out…  
“I suppose you have decided that what I did does not offend your sense of honor?”  
“It offends me less than the vile man you were married to.”  
“And yet…I did kill him.”  
“You are an exception.”  
“But,”  
"Let's speak of other things now, yes?”  
It was not that she didn’t believe Schulz, but it was odd – to have broken the resolve of someone she had come to understand was a harbinger of swift, bloody death and justice. The man himself was a walking contradiction to her. One moment, he was telling shocking stories about his first days in America or speaking passionately about the political fervor he had risked everything for…but when he came across one of the men for whom he possessed a handbill, he was a mechanical system of cold determination and single-minded drive.  
“So - you’re a rifle-toting nightmare parading around like a…royal foreign ambassador. With a tooth. A big damn tooth,” she’d finally concluded one day.  
Proudly, the doctor had grinned, nodding once for emphasis.  
“Ha! Yes! I like that…” 

They weren’t hunter and bounty anymore. It seemed years since they’d been in The Nugget, where she’d thrown things at the doctor’s head. What they were now, though – Paula did not know.  
However, there were little clues that she hoped would help them solve the mystery, by and by. For instance, she was certain that the mornings did not seem to start right unless she helped Schultz button the cuffs of his shirts.  
Likewise, it was not uncommon for the doctor to help her remove the pins from her hair before she trundled herself off to bed at night.  
They were not ineloquent people, but it seemed to Paula that what wasn’t being said was louder than any declaration.  


Lexington, Kentucky was called the Athens of the West for a reason. Large stone buildings sat like fortresses and dotted the skyline from the outskirts of the city. The bustle of people made every inch of air palpable with electricity as a million different dramas played out among the factories, flop houses, and three-story mansions on the upper northwest side of the city. The streets, narrow and cobbled with good brick work, wound through the important business district, making the sound of traffic seem like thunder. Likewise, the constant thrumming of trains rang in the air, tangled with whistles, wagon wheels, and music from the various clubs peddling amusements downtown. It made Sherriff Daniel Hawthorne feel small, at best.  
Hawthorne had come to Lexington because of the events of a night from about a month before. The significance of it all hadn’t struck the lawman at the time, but he’d known something was amiss. It seemed that Dr. Schultz fancied himself the only gun handler in the south capable of good detective work. That, of course, simply wasn’t the case.  
Something about Schultz’s new wife had unsettled the Sherriff. He’d traced the bounty hunting dentist’s trail back towards Westville, and heard an all too familiar story there - about Schultz shooting down a man who had threatened the German woman. Although, this time, witnesses said she’d spoken perfectly good English – had even shouted it at the man who had threatened her – before Schultz had gunned him down.  
That had made him curious about Schultz’s whereabouts prior to that particular incident – which led him to Camden. And what a story he’d heard there. A bulging saloon owner had been all too happy to rant about a widow’s boarding house going out of business under suspicious conditions – and right after Schultz himself had graced the establishment for a night, too.  
It wasn’t hard to figure the rest out – place the adjacent puzzle pieces into the right patterns and places. It was a fair guess that Schultz and the Norcross woman would probably come through the city – and soon. The bounty hunter knew a local magistrate who worked in the local courthouse. From what Hawthorne could tell, the magistrate in Lexington and another in Texas were a primary source of work-related news for the doctor. He’d alerted the judge who’d signed the warrant for Elizabeth Norcross’ arrest, who in turn had alerted the remaining members of the Norcross family. The murdered man’s brother had jumped at the chance to come west in order to confront Elizabeth.  
So here he sat, waiting for a tender-footed pansy-assed rich Yankee from Boston to help him settle the whole affair. What could someone who was used to sipping fancy sherry in an uptown office all day possibly contribute to the case?  
“More like he just wants part of the reward for hisself,” Hawthorne thought ruefully.  
So here he stood on the platform, waiting for a passenger train to pull into the station. The plan was to intercept the remaining Norcross brother, and simply have him tag along as Hawthorne and various law men from the Lexington area took care of the real work. They’d have to babysit while apprehending the murderess, but as long as the Yankee fellow kept out of his way, so be it.  
When the train finally arrived, Sherriff Daniel Hawthorne waited impatiently for a doddering slip of a man in a fancy suit to amble off the train. He glared at the crowd pouring out of the open doors, and down the few steps from the cars to the platform.  
The crowd began to thin out – Hawthorne continued to wait, more curious now. He had expected someone to point him out…maybe yell his name. The judge, who was a personal friend of the Norcross family had been the liaison who had arranged this meeting, but the man certainly wouldn’t have a clue as to who Hawthorne was, and especially not what he looked like.  
Just as the sheriff’s patience began to wane, a tall man emerged from the back of the last passenger car. Though it was the end of June, the figure was dressed head to toe in black. His apparel contrasted heavily from the nearly bright white blonde of his hair, and two blue eyes that shone glassy and clear like undisturbed water. The man was clean shaven, tall and thin - not more than 35. He held a walking stick with one hand – a porter carried his luggage from behind. What was most interesting about the man was his face. It looked as if it had been a malleable chunk of clay at one point that someone had pinched and pulled at till its features were too narrow - all that remained were angles and sharp points.  
He had, Hawthorne thought, all the natural charm of a carrion bird.  
“Daniel Hawthorne,” the man exclaimed, finally laying eyes in the sheriff’s direction. The man moved languidly, as if he was moving through a dream. There was an inhuman ease about his feet, and it made the law man nervous.  
“I am glad to finally meet you. I am Caius Norcross, and as you may have guessed – I’m here to hunt and kill the woman who shot my brother.”

Being in the city – riding down the streets of Lexington – made Paula nervous. The rush of humanity and the sound of stones under horse hooves reminded her too much of Boston, and what had transpired there. Still, being back in a city had its advantages – she’d be able to stay in a real bed tonight. If she seemed a bit apprehensive about being in Lexington, the doctor didn’t seem to notice. He’d actually become more lively as they’d ridden over the city limits.  
“You did not guess such a place was here, did you?” he asked.  
“Everyone’s heard of Lexington, doctor,” she returned, squeezing his arm lightly.  
“Ah! Well, let me tell you a thing – this is a marvelous place. It is too bad we don’t have time for taking in a symphony. Still, there is Gratz Park Hotel – you’ll like it there, I think. We’ll have a chance to rest our weary bones.”  
“You’ve stayed there before?”  
“Several times. I have a friend – Judge J. R. Bowson – who lives here. We have…an arrangement.”  
Paula smiled at Schultz’s pronunciation. J.R. became ‘jaaay ou-hr,’ and the last name took on a few extra syllables, too. She’d gotten used to the way he spoke. In fact, she’d realized right away that he used English better than most of the native born speakers she’d met. The accent, far from being troublesome, had become comforting in its various (and sometimes creative) cadences.

They finally came to a livery stable on West Second Street adjacent from the hotel. As Schultz saw to Fritz and Jake, Paula walked outside to view the skyline. It did not seem as vast as the city she’d come of age in. Still, she could see getting lost in such a place. It made her wonder how Cincinnati would feel once she’d arrived. It seemed to Paula that cities could be terribly lonely places if you didn’t know anyone there.  
Schultz watched the woman carefully as she walked through the roomy grand entrance. He imagined that it would be much like the accommodations she’d been used to in her former existence as Elizabeth Norcross. Indeed, this was an establishment for well-to-do travelers and affluent gentlemen of worldly means. Had they not been trying for a low profile, he would have liked to show her off properly in the dining room during an evening of good food and dancing…but then again, this was not a holiday. This was a dangerous job that carried much risk. It was probably best to stay out of sight – for the most part.  
“I’ll go make arrangements at the front desk with management. If you’ll stay put for a moment, I’ll come back and we’ll have someone take your trunk up to our…apartments.” He waved his hand, as if dismissing the thought, and strolled away from Paula, who was left inspecting the bright, well-lit lounge. She would have been able to stay put – really and truly – if she hadn’t caught sight of the most delightful thing; the hotel had a small library. Tucked into a corner was a small set of shelves, and two maroon arm chairs rested beside one another. She would later swear that her feet acted of their own accord – that she had no recollection of walking over to the concealed corner, and making herself at home. Nevertheless, when Schultz finally found her, she was curled snugly into one of those chairs, nose deep in Fanny Fern’s latest collection of published essays. 

 

 

He’d purchased adjoining suites, which he thought would be a nice change from their present arrangement. The towns they’d been through on their way to Cincinnati were usually small, and they always purchased a single room to make their ruse complete. The doctor had insisted on giving Paula the bed in each room they stayed in for the first week – he slept half-upright in chairs, and made himself comfortable on the floor (if that was possible). However, Paula finally had insisted on trading off. He had to admit that he was happy enough to sleep in a bed every now and again. It had certainly helped him during the day. In regards to his companion, Paula’s night terrors had decreased in frequency, and Schultz thought this a positive sign – although, she still talked in her sleep from time to time.  
Schultz took the opportunity to clean himself up after being on the road. After about an hour, he decided to check on Paula. Though it would be unwise to dine out in the open, it might be nice to order something from the kitchen. Evening was casting long shadows, and lamp lighters were starting to make their way through the streets. His stomach was gnawing at him, and he fancied a bite to eat. Surely the woman was getting hungry, too.

“Paula?” he called, knocking softly.  
“May I come in?”  
No answer came for a moment, and Schultz put his ear to the door, just in time to catch something that sounded like a cross between sob and a hiccup.  
“Just a moment, please!” she shouted through the door. He tugged at his beard, frowning slightly.  
“Are you alright?”  
“Of course!” she returned. Schultz could hear her swift steps crossing the wooden floor, and stopping in front of the door, where they paused for a moment before turning the knob and granting him entrance.  
“Hello,” he said, placing his hands behind his back and grinning broadly into her face.  
“I thought we might think about ordering something for dinner? I have work to do tomorrow, but I think we’ve earned a night of respite. Tell me, do you drink beer?”  
Her eyes were red. The porcelain skin was blotchy and the woman was smiling tightly. She’d been crying - that much was obvious.  
“Now this I do not understand,” Schultz straightened up, looking puzzled.  
“Just a few minutes ago, you were plowing through a book, contented as a well-fed cat! What changed?”  
“It’s of no importance – I’m…I’m just overwhelmed, I suppose,” Paula took a deep breath, and cast her eyes downward. Suddenly, her feet seemed to be of great personal interest. The doctor raised one eyebrow, and grunted a bit.  
“You’re perfectly safe, I assure you. I know this is quite a change to what you’ve become used to…but we’ll leave in a couple of days. There is no need to be afraid.”  
She’d slumped down onto the large bed in the middle of the room by this point, still staring sadly down at her shoes.  
"I'm not afraid, you silly man."  
Annoyed, the doctor dropped down beside her.  
“What is it? I cannot aide you with your troubles if you do not tell me what ails you.”  
For a moment, there was silence, and then Paula cleared her throat to speak.  
“Doctor, what will happen when we finally get to Cincinnati?”  
“You know the answer to that question.”  
“Yes, but…you’ll just…be gone?”  
More silence.  
“That is the plan, I think. I will be paid first, of course – but you will go back to having a very nice life with your friends, will you not?”  
Paula closed her eyes, and shook her head. In acknowledgement, Schultz sighed.  
“You certainly won’t need me anymore – my end of the business arrangement will be fulfilled. Anything else is just…unnecessary.”  
“You’re quite right of course, Doctor,” she finally conceded.  
“Now would you be so good as to leave my room, and not disturb me for the rest of the night?”  
Her voice stiffened, and she rose from the bed, turning her back to him and facing the wall. For a moment, Schultz was shocked by Paula’s near hostility, but squared his shoulders, and got up to leave.  
“If that is what you want, I will leave you alone, Fräulein.”  
He walked across the floor, then turned to glance back at Paula before leaving her suite. Just as he suspected, her head was slumped and her body was shaking in a silent sob. He threw his hands into the air, turning back around to face her.  
“Gott im Himmel, quit your pussyfooting around, and just tell me what’s wrong, will you!”  
It was the closest he’d ever come to shouting at her, and it felt wrong – completely against his character. Still, this coyness would get them nowhere.  
She turned on him in a fury of tears, her expression much like the one she’d worn on her face they day she’d tried to give him a concussion by throwing objects at his unprotected skull.

“I don’t expect this to be real, you know,” she yelled. “I know you don’t really think of me as your wife! I don’t expect you to settle down with me! I don’t EXPECT anything, but I thought…” she trailed off, suddenly self-conscious.  
“I thought things changed, and anyway – I thought we might be sharing a bed.”  
It seemed to Schultz as if a cannonball had been launched at his stomach. He couldn’t breathe.  
For the first time in a long time, the eloquent doctor who so often talked his way out of trouble had no words. After a few moments, he crossed the room, took the woman’s hand – the one she shot her father’s gun with – and kissed its white bony knuckles.  
“Schatz,” he said softly, “I’m an old man.”  
“An older man,” she corrected him. He smiled at that, and nodded slightly.  
“All I can give you is death and blood. That’s what I am. I trade dead flesh for money.”  
“That’s not true,” she spat back. “You’re good and smart. You’re some kind of wizard – dentist, marksman - you tell wonderful stories, and... you try to do what’s right. If you didn’t, I’d be dead. Anyway,”  
She placed her other hand over his.  
“I’m a cold-blooded murderess, so it looks like neither one of us is completely ideal.”  
“A bookish cold-blooded murderess,” he added, cupping his hand along her jawline, his eyes sparking hungrily.  
“The worst kind of companion,” she reiterated, right before Schultz covered her mouth with his.  
There was very little talking after that.


End file.
